


Playing the Nice Killer

by Skullfuggery (OverwatchingYouSleep)



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Degradation, Humiliation, Knifeplay, M/M, Major Character Injury, Stabbing, Violence, Wound Fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 09:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18221243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverwatchingYouSleep/pseuds/Skullfuggery
Summary: When you're getting murdered constantly, death just doesn't have the same pizzazz it used to. Frankie's bored of apathetic, one-minded survivors, and when a new one enters the playing field he takes full advantage of their inexperience.





	Playing the Nice Killer

Frank had no issue  admitting to himself that he had a bit of a god complex. To say he was a control freak would still somehow be an understatement; there was so much more to his method than pure control. There was fear, the panic when his prey realized that he held their life in his hands. There was capitalizing on that fear, toying with the idea of mercy and letting them think that if they begged, pleaded, and bargained with all they were worth, Frank would let them crawl away.

 

That became a bit more complicated in the Entity's realm. Under normal circumstances, nobody would live to fall for that trick twice. But once the survivors caught their first wind that Frank wasn't known for his merciful moments, their deaths became more resigned, a grim acceptance. Those who did beg stopped, and those who didn't made it a point not to respond to his verbal jabs.                                     

 

He thought it a shame. The Entity's realm was both a gift and a curse, allowing him never-ending sovereignty over those weaker than him while losing half the fun of chasing them down. Eventually he just held his tongue, straining to hold in his taunts and give the same silent treatment that he was always received with.

 

He didn't make the connection when another killer--the first new one since his arrival--joined them by the campfire. He didn't think much of it when he materialized in a trial. It wasn't until he caught sight of the new arrival, focused intently on the moving lips of the pig-tailed girl, that the opportunity before him spelled itself out in his mind.

 

Someone who's never died before.

 

Frank's fingers twitched. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, he fell forward and his feet were suddenly moving faster than his mind, knife flipped overhand and raised high in the air.

 

He broke into the conversation with a single slice, running from the girl's shoulder all the way down to her elbow. Underhand grip, Frank whirled around as she screamed and lunged for you. Your hands flew up to defend yourself, not totally helpless even if you were no match for him. With practiced precision Frank forced a grimy blade inside of your guts, then quickly yanked back.

 

You stumbled backwards, clutching your new open wound and screaming bloody murder. Fresh fear. Not practiced or restrained or in any way prepared for what was to come. Frank didn't realize how much he missed the sound until it sent tingles coursing throughout his entire body.

 

While you panicked, Frank turned his attention back to the other girl, who had managed to get a good head start in the opposite direction. Killer instinct said to follow. The glowing crosshatch that she left in her wake was tempting. But not so much as his own hedonism.

 

You had pressed your back against the brick wall behind you, shirt pulled up and wordlessly staring at your new wound. As though it fascinated you, the narrow window into your own inner working. Frank closed the distance in two steps, drawing your attention up in the same instant he shoved two fingers inside your newest opening.

 

Again he trembled at your cry. Blood squelched between his digits and flowed out the small gap. He placed his right hand against the wall to steady himself, knife loosely pinned beneath his palm. Waited calmly for you to finish screaming before he opened his mouth. "I can tell you're new here."

 

He watched the flurry of emotions cross over your tear-stained face, everything from terror and pain to pure bewilderment. Frank's grin beneath his mask widened. "What'd she tell you?"

 

"Fffucking--She just--!" Frank tilted his head. You were pushing your voice awfully deep when he was sure you were on another octave just a moment ago.

 

"Mm, cute." His fingers spread, stretching your narrow wound apart. But you didn't scream, this time you clenched your teeth and inhaled sharply, tears bubbling over with twice the intensity. "Not a very convincing tough guy, are you?"

 

You exhaled as Frank brought his fingers back together. He was slow to push inside of you, savoring every new expression it gave. Soon his hips were twitching, bringing himself closer to you until your bodies were nearly pressed together and his mask rested firmly in your hair.

 

And though you grunted and howled and everything in between, you never fought back. Because you knew it would get you punished, knew that he was the one with the power, knew that you were at his absolute mercy.

 

"You know, the others will know how to fix this," Frank wiggled his fingers to show what he meant though he knew he absolutely didn't have to. You whimpered, tilted your head down further.

 

"Others?"

 

"Oh,  _ sure. _ " Frank pulled his knife away from the wall and jabbed it down into a nearby crate, well within arms reach. "Couple others, they can mend you up and get you out of here. And since I'm so  _ nice _ \--"

 

He pulled back and grabbed the bottom of his mask, sliding it up until it was pressed up into his hair. The Entity gurgled in the back of his mind, and he was all too happy to ignore it.

 

"I'd be willing to let a newbie go." Your head snapped up, eyes immediately falling to his smug grin. He finally pulled his fingers out of you, looking first over his bloodstained fingers then at your wound. They never bled out as fast as they did in the real world, but his time was still limited. "I just need one thing from you."

 

Your eyes narrowed. "No."

 

"Don't want to hear my generous offer?" Without the mask there was no hiding it, Frank knew his excitement was written all over his face. Yet you shook your head again. He sighed without a hint of disappointment and moved his bloody fingers to his jeans, pulling down the zipper.

 

And just as he expected, that simple noise changed your attitude in a heartbeat. You shrank away as you watched him undress, tripping over your own words until you could hardly speak at all. Once he tugged his jeans down his boxers were worthless, his cock springing up and poking out of the open fly. At the perfect height to push forward and rub the tip of his cock against your wound.

 

You tried to squirm away and his free hand snatched your wrist, pinning it to the wall beside your head. Meanwhile he swiped away blood from your gushing wound to wet himself, shamelessly jerking himself off in your fluids. Your eyes met, and he broke away from biting his lip to smile. 

 

“Why don’t you give me a kiss?” You no longer hesitated. You shut your eyes and puckered your lips up, and Frank took a moment to simply admire that sight in itself before diving in. He grabbed you by your hair and pressed you to his lips, holding you there as his other hand slowly worked himself to orgasm. 

 

He held that for a long moment, amused as he watched your eyes slowly open and fill with betrayal as you realized that this wasn't going to get you out of this. He didn't want to break your hopes so soon, he wanted to let you go this time just so he could get one more out of you. So, with an annoyed roll of his eyes, he broke the kiss.

 

"Well, a deal's a deal," Frank muttered on your lips. He felt you shake beneath him and he hoped you felt how it made his cock twitch. He pulled his head up and planted one more kiss on your cheek, brushing his lips over your ear as he pulled away. "You were a good boy."

 

You tried to pull away from him but his grip in your hair tightened, holding you still. "Don't like when I call you that?"

 

"Just...fucking...." Frank let go of your hair and you collapsed to the ground, your blood loss finally getting to you. You slumped against the wall, face going pallid as blood slowly pooled around you. Frank stroked his cock a few more times, really fighting the urge to finish himself all over your face.

 

Then again, what was stopping him?

 

You were barely conscious  enough to feel the warmth splattering over you. First your forehead, then your cheeks, until you were covered in him. He wiped the last strand off on your lips, the head of his cock leaving a smudge of your own blood as it went.

 

"I'll point the others your way." The voice was faint, muffled by his mask and growing dimmer every moment.  "But if I were you, I wouldn't want to be saved looking like that."

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Send me dbd requests!! I live off of them @skulfuggery.tumblr.com


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